The Sins of the Mother
by VeraRose19
Summary: This nightmare was almost supposed to be over but now another one was beginning, and it was even worse. His mother would be very old in ten years when she came home-if she came home. Vasily was now facing the possibility that she might never actually come back, and in his heart of hearts where he held his deepest guilt, he wasn't sure he even wanted her to. [One-Shot]


Vasily Reznikov didn't even have to wake up when he heard the sound of his daughter beginning to cry from inside the bassinet situated on his girlfriend Lida's side of the bed. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep all night, which was unfortunate, because escape from the heavy thoughts plaguing his mind was exactly what he was craving. He hadn't felt this broken or anxious in a long time. Probably not since he was a teenager had his concerns for his mother kept him awake at night.

"Go back to sleep, Lida," he urged, placing his hand firmly on his girlfriend's shoulder to keep her from sitting up. "I've got her."

"No, I-"

"You wanted her to get used to taking a bottle before you go back to work anyway, right?" Vasily reminded her. "I can make her one. I'm already up anyway. Go back to sleep."

That was all the prompting that Lida needed to roll over and sink back into the deep sleep she had been enjoying with a smile across her lips. He was so lucky to have her, Vasily reminded himself, as he quickly stroked his fingers through his girlfriend's blonde hair. He really didn't deserve her and knew he asked a lot of her. They'd overcome several tumultuous ups and downs together, had two children, and Lida had never held the dark parts of his family against him. Their relationship was sometimes rocky but it was enduring, and more than Vasily had ever dreamed of finding.

For nearly half of his life now, Vasily had suffered in silence, alternating between the extremes of anger, embarrassment, and indifference towards the woman who had loved, nurtured, and raised him. To have a mother in prison, to be separated, to have her miss out on all the important moments, and to even be denied regular and unrestrained communication...well it was almost like not having a mother at all.

Sometimes, especially when they went an unusually long stretch without a visit or a phone call, Galina Reznikov could seem almost ghost like to her son, and in many ways that was easier. For if his mother had died, Vasily would be free to put her on a pedestal in his heart and mind for all that she had been to him. Instead she was alive and living in a correctional facility because she had done some bad things. It was a truth that made him question everything about her and the golden childhood she had been devoted to creating for he and his brothers. Struggling to figure out how this criminal component could co-exist with the mother he had known, and if such a thing was even possible was something he still didn't have an answer to.

"Shhh, Vera, you're fine," Vasily said softly, as he lifted his daughter out of her crib. The infant halted her cries for a moment, glaring up at him as her lower lip trembled threateningly.

"I know, I know, you want Mama," Vasily continued to speak, knowing instinctively that his voice would pacify the baby even if just a little.

He cradled Vera in his arms as he walked down the flight of stairs and into the kitchen. The can of powdered formula was on top of the fridge, a recent purchase because Lida would be returning to work part time in the coming week and knew her relentless night shifts as a cocktail waitress would not afford her time to pump. They'd been through this before, when she had needed to leave their oldest, Koyla, and the transition hadn't been too hard.

Working opposite shifts, Lida and Vasily were able to ensure one of them was always home with their children-a necessary component, when the only living Babushka was in prison and the cost of daycare in New York would make a job pointless. Vasily had done a lot of growing up since his first child had been born. He shared equally in the household tasks and the childcare, primarily because Lida would not tolerate anything less and he knew better than to test her.

As he continued to cradle Vera in one arm, while he expertly prepared her bottle with the other, Vasily couldn't help but wonder if seeing him now would make his mother proud of him. He wasn't sure why her opinion should even matter, as she certainly hadn't been worrying about his approval when she'd been committing the crimes that would get her sentenced to prison. Yet, for some reason it did. Vasily knew he had surpassed his own father's footsteps, growing into a man who provided for and also nurtured his family. Had Galina been getting released next year like she was supposed to be, Vasily had intended to bring her into his home and take care of her, show her that he had not only survived, but learned to thrive in her absence. Now she wasn't coming back though, and he supposed nothing he did was really relevant to her. They belonged to different worlds. .

"Why are you still crying, _Solnyshko_?" Vasily asked softly, "you know this is for you." Carrying Vera and the freshly warm bottle of milk into the living room, he decided not to turn the light on as he sat back in the glider chair. .

"Don't look at me like that," Vasily murmured, stroking Vera's foot through her fleece sleeper as the baby sputtered at the bottle he'd offered. Used to the breast, a bottle was something of an adjustment. It had been a similar effort with Koyla, who occasionally had been stubborn enough to just skip a feeding all together and hold out until his mama returned. It had worked out in the end though, and it would again this time.

The baby began to cry loudly again, frustrated at not being fed in her preferred fashion. Vasily was patient though. He was in no hurry and not at all inclined to run back up the stairs to his sleeping girlfriend and insist she take over. Gently nudging the silicone nipple against the lips of the open mouthed and frustrated baby, Vasily patted her comfortingly with his other hand and began to rock the chair back and forth.

"I know you want your mama," Vasily spoke as he continued to soothe his daughter. "But we're going to let her sleep tonight while we hang out. You've got Daddy for now...and at least you only have to miss your mama for a couple of hours, I've been missing mine for close to fifteen years…"

Vasily swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned his head back against the cushioned back of the glider. As soon as he'd spoken, a nagging thought coursed through his mind. _If you really miss her, then why did it take you so long to visit? Why did you storm out instead of staying to talk things out?_

His responses were complicated and he was grateful that Vera was his only witness. He shifted between experiences of guilt and satisfaction for what had transpired down at the Litchfield Maximum Security facility that afternoon. He couldn't get the image of his mother out of his mind. How lost, sad, and positively alone she looked behind the wall of glass. He resented her for making him see her like that, for forcing him into a situation no child should ever have to see their mother in. And then for her to have the gall to make requests...to ask him to bring his innocent children into such a horrible place or to take her frustration with Dmitri out on him like he had anything to do with it.

As Galina had looked outward for something to cling to, Vasily had done what had felt right in the moment and pointed his literal finger back into her face. It didn't matter at the time that things were never black and white, that in the shades of grey lived a lot of factors to make her more a victim of circumstances. It wasn't relevant in that visitation room, that he knew she had made a lot of choices based only on the fact that she thought it would protect him, Yuri, and Maxim the most, and that Vasily knew his father was complicit also even if it was a big elephant their family never really discussed. All that seemed to matter as he yelled through the phone at her that all the blame rested completely on her shoulders, was that she had hurt him again. Despite logically knowing it wasn't even remotely all her fault, he had higher expectations for her for the simple reason that she was his mother. And in that regard, she had failed.

"That's my girl," Vasily whispered as Vera finally conceded to accept the bottle. She gulped down the milk hurriedly, taking big gulps and protesting loudly when he stopped to burp her at the midway point.

By the time she reached the bottom, Vera was content. Vasily set the empty bottle on the coffee table and then resumed his rocking, as his daughter lay nestled across his chest. He had no intention of taking her back upstairs to bed, he didn't think he would be any more successful at getting himself to sleep now than he had been before. He considered turning the tv on so he'd have something to watch, but in the end couldn't summon the energy. So, he just sat there, cradling his daughter, and receiving as much comfort from her tiny little body as he could.

"V? Babe?" Lida's voice called softly, pulling him out of his own thoughts.

"Why are you up?" Vasily asked, looking up as Lida came closer. She was wearing an old t-shirt of his and her favourite flannel pajama bottoms, and her hair was all dishevelled. Vasily motioned to the empty bottle on the table.

"I told you I'd handle it," he reminded her.

"I know," Lida replied, yawning loudly as she perched herself on the arm of his chair. "I didn't come down because I didn't trust you...I just was wondering why you didn't come back to bed."

"I couldn't sleep," Vasily admitted.

Lida nodded her head in understanding. "Is this about your visit to your mother?"

"What?" Vasily bristled, frowning. "How do you know about that?"

He hadn't told her where he was going that afternoon. Even after all their years together, he still found going to the prison to see his mother to be a pretty private event. He didn't like to talk about it. He didn't like to try and pretend that any part of visiting a loved one in prison was normal. It was a source of deepest shame, and even though Lida had met Galina and still made the trip with him from time to time, Vasily didn't want to make a routine of it. He preferred to keep his two existences separate, the one he was proud of and the one he tried to forget about as soon as he began to drive away from Litchfield. The only people he really felt comfortable talking about all of this with was his two older brothers. Yuri and Maxim were living the same reality as him and could understand.

"Yuri called and he told me that's what you were doing," Lida replied. "Why didn't you tell me yourself? I thought you were going to play Rugby…"

"I didn't want to make a thing of it," Vasily mumbled. "I didn't know how I'd feel about going into that new place...the worse place. I wasn't honestly sure I'd even wind up going through with it."

"But you did?" Lida asked, wrapping her arm around his shoulder as Vasily continued to move the glider with his feet, now rocking all three of them.

"Mhmm," Vasily nodded. "Unfortunately…"

He didn't elaborate, and for awhile Lida was content to sit there with him and rock in silence. She leaned her head against his strong shoulder and gazed down at their daughter who was sleeping so peacefully. It was too much for Vasily to hope though that Lida would drop the subject. She never let him off the hook so easily. As diminutive as she looked, Lida had always secretly been a force to be reckoned with. It was what drew Vasily to her, as much as it frustrated him.

"How is she doing?" Lida asked quietly, once she gave him as much quiet time as she could tolerate.

"How do you think?" Vasily scoffed.

"Well, I'd assume not well…" Lida sighed. "She can't be doing well...did you at least find out what exactly happened? Why she got ten more years…"

"Nope, she didn't talk about it and I know better than to ask," Vasily replied, his voice rising an octave as he reflected on the all too short visit he had shared with his mother mere hours before. Their conversation had been replaying over and over in his mind, on the drive home and all through the night as sleep failed him. He wondered if she couldn't sleep either...locked in a cell as she thought about the son who had walked away from her, the son she had no power to chase after.

Vasily had seen the tears in her eyes forming, but he'd slammed down the phone and turned away anyway. Now he was hating himself for that. His heart was broken, but hers was too. He wanted to be there for her, help her through this...but he was also just so tired. This nightmare was almost supposed to be over but now another one was beginning, and it was even worse. His mother would be very old in ten years when she came home-if she came home. Vasily was now facing the possibility that she might never actually come back, and in his heart of hearts where he held his deepest guilt, he wasn't sure he even wanted her to.

"I'm just so f*cking mad at her," Vasily confessed through gritted teeth.

"I'd be concerned if you weren't," Lida replied calmly, rubbing her hand up and down his arm as she leaned in even closer. "You should be mad at her...you should also be scared for her, and sad for her...my heart is breaking for her, and she isn't even my mother."

"Well...she kind of is," Vasily shrugged. "I mean, even though we aren't really married, Ma calls you my wife every chance she can."

"Well, at least I know she'll be supportive if and when that days comes," Lida replied. "Although, I'm sort of losing hope….and Yuri said you have commitment issues from his failed marriage, and watching your parents merely tolerate one another your entire life."

"Why are you talking to Yuri so much lately?" Vasily frowned. "And why are you two talking about me so much?"

"Now that Anna left him, he has to come somewhere to eat," Lida chuckled. "I lure him over with food and then pump him for information."

"Yeah, well, he was wrong," Vasily replied.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Vasily nodded. "I want to marry you. I want to marry you a lot…"

"Really?" Lida smiled.

"Of course," Vasily replied. "I've just always put it off...not because of you though, or because I have any doubts. I just always thought that when I got married my mother would get to be there."

"Vasily-"

Vasily sniffled, twisting his lips, and wrinkling his nose as he fought for composure. "I've put off so much….I've wasted so much time just waiting for her to come back and be a part of my life. I didn't want her to miss it. I've been dragging my feet all this time because of her."

"She never asked you to though."

"No, of course not," Vasily shook his head. "She'd never ask me to do that. She wants me to be happy, she's always said that...but how the f*ck can anyone be happy when she keeps doing such f*cked up shit. Does she think about us at all?"

Lida didn't respond and Vasily didn't want her to. There was nobody who could answer that aside from Galina herself and he wasn't prepared to hear what she had to say. She had pushed them all away by her own design. They'd visited faithfully, all three boys, and their father. They'd pick up the phone when she rang no matter what they might be in the middle of. They were loyal to her because they loved her. Because she was a good mother who had given them absolutely everything she could growing up and they adored her so much they could find it within them to overlook nearly anything. It was Galina who had stopped calling. Who had told them that they didn't need to spend so much time visiting her because she wanted them to live their own lives.

"_I convinced myself that these women in here were my family, but they are traitors and convicts. I've neglected you. Only family is family." _

That was her own confession. She had turned her backs on them and now was pleading for their return just because she wanted something from them. It was a side of her that Vasily neither knew nor liked. His mother only wanted to see him now because the people she had replaced him with had betrayed her in some form or other. Now she was all alone in such a horrifying place and as much as it pained him, it angered him too. Had she only thought about him and his brothers just a little, perhaps she would have made different choices. Now she had gotten ten more years and their family, once hopeful, was completely shattered.

"You know that she loves you," Lida reminded him gently. "Think about how much you love Koyla and Vera...that's exactly the way your mother feels about you and all these wasted years in there must be absolute hell for her. You don't what she's been through...and reasons she pulled away and doesn't discuss it is probably because she is trying to protect you."

"She's changed," Vasily said bluntly. "I don't even recognize her anymore."

Lida sighed. "She's just trying to survive."

"Yeah, well, so are we," Vasily said gruffly. He lifted the baby away from his chest and passed her into Lida's waiting arms.

"What other choice do we have?" he added, as he got to his feet and walked out of the room. He wanted space. Lida couldn't make him feel better about any of this. No matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to understand the stabbing pain he felt continually in his heart.

A nagging thought reminded him that there were more visiting hours tomorrow. He had the option of driving up there and saying everything he needed to say and maybe finding some peace in a devastating situation. At least he could let his mother know that he still loved her. He could even bring his babies if he wanted to. Give her that glimmer of hope, give her something to smile about…. but as soon as the idea rose within him, he squashed it.

The idea made him so uncomfortable. If she wasn't coming home, he didn't want his children to have the chance to know her, and love her, and take on the burden that their father and uncles had never had a choice but to carry. It all seemed so pointless. In many ways, Vasily felt he never had grown out of the haunted teenage boy who'd once had his world torn apart. It had never gotten easier, and he had learned to accept that it never would. What he needed was time. At least for a little while, he needed to look away.


End file.
